French Chocolates By The Fireplace
by Starquilter57
Summary: Honeymoon In Paris! Sequel to The Lovers, The Dreamers, and Me
1. Chapter 1

I do not own Star Trek, I don't make any money, but I'll accept truffles!

**French Chocolates By The Fireplace**

Sarek had given them five thousand credits to spend on their honeymoon. They would only be in Paris for three days and four nights. Nyota told Spock they should live it up a little. Spock thought that they should be frugal and not spend it all at once. A "discussion" ensued, with the usual result. Spock caved, as he always did in any situation that did not violate his morals or sense of duty.

There were those among his friends, mostly Jim and Bones, who would called the Vulcan "whipped". Spock would never admit to such a thing. He had chosen a human bond-mate and life in a mostly human culture. He also chose to have domestic tranquility whenever possible. And truth be told, Nyota always found a way to "compensate" him for any concessions he made.

They had arrived in Paris in the late afternoon on the day after Christmas, having survived a multi-cultural wedding and reception at Nyota's parents' home in Kenya. Spock had booked a quaint hotel on the Rive Gauche in the Latin Quarter, at the recommendation of a former student, Henri Bouchard, whose parents owned it. Henri told his parents that the young newlyweds were Starfleet heroes who had helped save the planet from Nero. The Bouchards felt honored to have such guests and did everything possible to make them feel welcome.

The first night, the young couple dined in an exquisite vegetarian restaurant, dressed in their very finest. This was followed by a visit to Palais Garnier, the Paris Opera House, which had recently undergone another renovation. Spock found the building to be somewhat illogical in its ostentatious construction and lavish use of expensive resources. Nyota thought it beautiful. They enjoyed a magnificent performance of Verdi's _Don Carlos, _a five-act Grande Opera.

When the couple returned to their hotel room, they found chocolate mousse and iced champagne waiting for them. Someone had lit a fire in the old-fashioned fireplace. Despite layers of warm clothing, Spock had gotten chilled to the bone. The evening had grown quite cold and the rain they had run through had been nearly freezing. Nyota grabbed blankets and pillows from the bed and set them on the floor near the fireplace. She persuaded her beloved to lie down next to her as they partook of the champagne and mousse. Soon Spock was feeling warm enough to dispense with first the blankets and then his clothes. He must have thought Nyota too warm, for he relieved her of her clothing also. They kept each other warm long after the fire died down.

* * *

Sometime during the night, Spock must have picked Nyota up off the floor and moved both of them to the luxurious bed. Nyota got up briefly for a bathroom run and then hurried back to bed and her nice warm Vulcan. Neither of them really relished the idea of getting up and going in search of breakfast. They had just about resigned themselves to such a fate when there came at knock at their door.

"One moment, please."

Spock rose quickly and threw on his pajama bottoms. He threw the top to Nyota. He answered the door, finding Monsieur and Madame Bouchard themselves with a room service cart laden with food.

"Bonjour, mes enfants. We have breakfast for you. Croissants, cheese, fruit, and tea. If the young monsieur would return to his bed, we can serve you both."

Spock quickly returned to the bed, which had not yet grown cold in his absence.

Madame Bouchard gave Nyota a wink and a thumbs up. Spock didn't look too bad shirtless.

"Ah, Maurice, how adorable they are. They share everything, even the pajamas. Now, tell us what you would like, and we will serve it for you."

Plates were made up for the newlyweds and served on footed bed trays. They each got a cup of tea.

"Come, Louise. Let us leave the young lovers alone. Au revoir, mes enfants. Mangez bien."

"Merci. Merci beaucoup. Spock, I could get used to this."

"You would be weary of it in a week, beloved."

* * *

It was even more difficult to rouse themselves out of that lovely bed now, but they had a full day planned at the Louvre Museum. They dressed in layers and hurried off to their destination.

* * *

Spock and Nyota spent two hours with the Old Masters. Spock especially appreciated the realistic style of Rembrandt and Vermeer, while Nyota preferred works from the Baroque period. They both greatly enjoyed Da Vinci.

The collection of Modern African Artists held a surprise for them An ancestor of Nyota's, one Azizi Uhura, figured prominently. His style was very minimal, but he used color profusely. There were aspects of his work that both of the newlyweds could appreciate. They purchased his biography at the museum gift shop, an actual hard-bound paper book. It contained photographs of many of his works.

They grabbed a quick bite at one of the museum's cafes. Then they were off to see a very special exhibit. One that would be leaving the planet forever, returning to the people who had cherished it, but no longer lived on the world of their birth.

* * *

There were over twelve hundred items in the Vulcan Antiquities Exhibit. Construction had recently begun on the New Vulcan Cultural Institute. The complex would house both an institution of higher learning and a museum.

Spock knew the names and histories of all these items. He quietly pointed them out to Nyota and described their functions.

Soon a woman with two small children approached the couple.

"I am sorry to bother you, Monsieur, but you have such knowledge. I wonder, would it be possible for my children and I to follow you and Madame through the exhibition?"

"I would have no objection to this."

Spock and Nyota continued on the way. Spock spoke a little more loudly and walked a little more slowly. People must have thought it was a museum-sanctioned tour, because they were soon joined by a dozen more patrons. When they had completed their walk through the exhibit, Spock received a round of applause.

"Bravo, monsieur! Bravo!"

"Thank you."

Spock's ears and cheeks turned a brilliant green. He sat down on a bench and Nyota squeezed his hand.

"Spock, you handled that very well."

A little girl walked up to him and examined him curiously, then seemed to recognize him.

"Monsieur, you are Commander Spock, no?"

"Yes, I am Spock."

"I am so sorry for what happened to your planet, and I wish to thank you for helping to save mine. Thank you."

She gave Spock a quick and unexpected hug. Spock felt the child's sincerity. In the few years since the Narada Incident, Kirk, Spock, and the whole Enterprise crew had received many thank yous, medals, and commendations for the service they had rendered. But for Spock, this one from a small child was the most meaningful and touching.

"You are most welcome."

* * *

They had to hurry to make their next destination on time. Admiral Pike had given them a dinner cruise on the Seine as a wedding present. Spock and Nyota got a cab from the Louvre to the Eiffel Tower, where the cruise began.

For two hours, while they ate a splendid meal, they received a guided tour of various sights along both banks of the Seine. Live musicians played chamber music, but would stop whenever the small cruise boat came to an attraction. Then a tour guide would describe for them what they were seeing in great detail. As they left the Eiffel Tower, they passed under the Pont de l'Alma, an arched bridge built to commemorate a victorious battle during the Crimean War. The next bridge, Pont de Alexandre III was very ornate. It was named for Czar Alexander III and its cornerstone laid by his son Nicholas II.

The Musee d'Orsay, a museum dedicated to the works of French artists, was originally a train station. The French government converted it to an art museum in 1977.

The Musee du Louvre, where the couple had passed the day, started its life as a fortress in the twelfth century. It then became a palace, the residence for French kings, until 1672, when Louis XIV chose to move his household to Versailles.

The Pont des Arts, a pedestrian bridge, connected the Louvre to the Insitut de France, home to the Academie Francaise. The Pont Neuf, the oldest standing bridge across the Seine, was completed in 1607, under the reign of Henry IV, whose statue is on the bridge. It also spans the Ile de la Cite, an island in the Seine, inhabited since Roman times.

The Conciergerie, located on the Ile de la Cite, was first a palace and then a prison, the last stop before the guillotine during the French Revolution. The Cathedral Notre Dame de Paris, also located on the Ile. Construction of the Gothic style Cathedral began in 1160, but was not completed for nearly two hundred years.

The Ile Saint Louis, a small island close to Notre Dame, was likened by by the tour guide to a small French village someone might have dropped into the middle of Paris. She told of its many romantic cafes and quaint boutiques with unique souvenirs.

Nyota got very excited at this. Spock could feel it through their bond.

_Oh, please, beloved. That sounds like so much fun!_

_Very well, but let us try to exercise some restraint._

Nyota sighed. Only a Vulcan could think of restraint in such a romantic setting.

The little boat crossed under Pont de Bercy, an arched bridge. The tour ended a few moments later, and the couple disembarked, taking a cab back to their hotel, which was a short distance away. Again, they had to run from the taxi to the hotel in freezing rain.

* * *

Someone had lit the fire for them again. However, instead of iced champagne, they found brandy and cerisettes, cherries soaked in cherry liqueur and then dipped in chocolate. The newlyweds removed their damp clothing and settled down on blankets near the fire, as they had done the previous night. When Spock placed one of the candies in his mouth, Nyota stole it from him with a kiss. Thinking it only fair, he stole one from her in the same fashion. Hiding the chocolate and stealing it quickly became a game, a rather adult game. Some of the hiding places were rather challenging.

The game ended with a bubble bath, to remove the last traces of chocolate and cherry liqueur. Then it was off to the lovely bed with its lavender scented sheets, an aroma intended to entice one to sleep.

* * *

They did sleep eventually, to be awakened again by a knock on the door. This time Nyota rose and put on her robe, tossing her husband a t-shirt. She opened the door with a smile.

"Bonjour."

"Bonjour, Madame. How are we this fine morning?"

"We are fine, Monsieur and Madame Bouchard. Please come in."

"Merci. Perhaps Madame would return to the bed so that she might enjoy breakfast with Monsieur."

Nyota did as requested.

"This morning we have palmiers, yogurt, strawberries and tea."

"Madame Bouchard, you are going to spoil us rotten. We'll never want to leave."

"That is the idea, mes enfants. Then you will return to us the next time you come to Paris, perhaps for your anniversary."

* * *

When the couple was finally able to convince themselves to leave their comfy room and brave the cold December air, it was catch public transportation and spend the remainder of the morning at the Institut de France. There they spent the morning with Professor Robert Le Brun, a member of the Academie Francaise.

He was very interested in the interactive language teaching method Spock had developed. One of the goals of the Academie Francaise was to preserve the integrity of the French language. Le Brun felt that the best way to do this was to make sure that people learned it properly in the first place. They conversed on the subject for some time in French. The old professor was most impressed with how well Spock spoke it, considering he was not Terran-born. Vulcans generally had a more difficult time learning French because of all the unpronounced letters. There must be some validity to the young man's teaching methods.

All too soon, Le Brun had to excuse himself to give a lecture. Spock and Nyota found a small cafe nearby and had an excellent lunch of soup and croissants. Spock made sure to eat a filling lunch, as he would need his strength for carrying all of Nyota's packages.

* * *

After lunch, Spock and Nyota made their way to the shopping district near the Place De La Concorde. While en route, they passed by the offices of the President of the United Federation Of Planets. Spock had visited this several times as a child in the company of his parents. Nyota had never seen the impressive building before, nor the satellite Vulcan Embassy. Spock was able to point out to her the window of the room where he had slept many times as a child.

"It is a very interesting building, beloved. Perhaps we could manage a tour."

"Oh, I don't think so. You're not getting out of shopping that easily."

"It was worth a try."

* * *

Spock was start to chafe at the idea of spending the whole afternoon shopping. Nyota had already purchased a pair of shoes and some underwear.

"Nyota, was it really necessary to purchase twelve pairs of panties?"

"I wouldn't need so many if a certain someone didn't shred them in his impatience! I must wear underwear in order to comply with uniform regulations."

"You do make a good point. However, I do recall another certain someone saying that she found it quite arousing to have her panties removed in that fashion."

"Yes, I did say that. Maybe twelve pairs is not enough. I should really get some more."

Spock sighed. Perhaps he should not have commented at all.

* * *

They had stopped at another cafe for a cup of hot tea. That was when Nyota spied the window display across the street. It was a men's clothing store and the mannequin was wearing a very form-fitting pair of black jeans with embroidered pockets. The mannequin had the same slender build as her husband.

Nyota smiled at Spock and then at the window, then back again. Through their bond, she sent him an image of a fantasy involving himself and that pair of jeans.

They quickly finished their tea and made their to the boutique.

* * *

"I am very sorry, Madame, but the only pair we have left are the ones in the window. I was about to remove them. Monsieur is quite slender, but it may be a disappointment. But of course, you must try them."

* * *

They were even the perfect length, no alterations were necessary. When Spock stepped out of the dressing room to model the jeans for Nyota, the two middle-aged sales ladies were fanning themselves

"I think we'll take those."

"Madame, it would be a crime against nature not to, given Monsieur's natural "assets."

When the couple had left the shop, the ladies were still fanning themselves.

"Marguerite, it is suddenly quite warm for December."

"Oui, Monique. Quite warm."

* * *

Spock managed to haul all their purchases back to the hotel. The bags were really not all that heavy, even with three dozen pairs of panties. The couple freshened up and got ready for their night on the town.

* * *

Nyota was a vision in a gold knee-length dress. Spock wore his new jeans and a black pullover sweater over a blue turtleneck. They had dinner in a quiet bistro near the hotel. Spock fortified himself again. Nyota's fantasy of the afternoon had involved dancing in a nightclub.

* * *

It was a foregone conclusion that Spock and Nyota attracted attention whenever they went out in public. They were a very attractive young people and together made a very handsome young couple. Though the galaxy was a somewhat different place than when Spock's parents had met and married over thirty years ago, it had not changed enough for most humans to accept an inter-species couple.

Spock and Nyota had become accustomed to crude and bigoted comments. Spock had even learned to deal with the occasional male, Human or otherwise who might think himself capable of stealing Nyota away. However, neither of them were prepared for Phaelen, the Deltan Ambassador to Terra.


	2. Chapter 2

I do not own Star Trek, I don't make any money, so send chocolate-covered cherries!

**French Chocolates By The Fireplace Part II**

Phaelen was on the prowl. He had been ejected from every nightclub in the vicinity of the Deltan Embassy. He found the fragile Humans too tempting to resist, even though it was considered unethical to mate with them. The combination of the pheromones he gave off and the sensuous nature of his telepathy could actually cause a Human to lose their sanity. Phaelen did not concern himself with the mental health of his partners. He cared only for his own pleasure.

He scanned the dance floor hungrily. Now there was a pretty pair! A dark-skinned Human female with ...No, could it really be? A Vulcan male? He had yet to experience one of those. They bonded for life and were monogamous. This one was quite young, however. Perhaps he was not yet taken.

* * *

They were dancing a slow dance in a corner of the night club. Spock had both of his hands around Nyota's waist, as she had shown him in her mental image of her fantasy. She had started with both hands around his neck and gradually slid them down his back until each one came to rest in one of the embroidered back pockets of his jeans.

"Just warming my hands" she said with a wicked grin.

Then she pulled him closer so that there was no space at all between them, resting her head on his chest. They danced this way for several minutes, until they both felt taps on the shoulder.

"You two make an incredibly attractive couple. Would you consider a threesome?"

Spock was filled with rage. He spun around to see who would dare ask such a thing.

"Ambassador Phaelen! Your perversions are well known. You know that Vulcans mate for life. You also know that Humans may be harmed by mating with Deltans. Unfortunately your diplomatic immunity protects you from prosecution. However, it does not protect you from me. You will step away from me and my wife, sir, or you shall most certainly wish that you had."

"Ah. You are Sarek's son."

"Yes. I am Spock and my father warned me about you. He also told me of your efforts to "pick up" himself and my mother. Such attempts will not be appreciated here, either. I do not possess the same degree of emotional control as my father."

Spock was mere centimeters from Phaelen's face when he said this, holding him by the collar. Phaelen recalled that Sarek had nearly neck-pinched him the last time he had made an inappropriate gesture. He had also heard rumors that young Spock had once nearly choked his commanding officer to death. He swallowed hard.

"Perhaps it would be best if I left."

"I think that it might."

Phaelen quickly departed the club.

Sarek had once explained to his son that diplomats tended to fall into two categories. There were those who were among the most respected and trusted of their people, who exemplified the values a civilization held dear. The other group was composed of individuals who were such an embarrassment to their noble families that they sent them off-world to get rid of them. Phaelen fell into the latter category.

Nyota led her husband back to their table, so he could get a drink of water and cool down. When he was calmer, she made a suggestion.

"Beloved, let's go back to the hotel."

"I would like that."

* * *

Louise Bouchard looked up from her reading in time to see the young couple crossing the street.

"Maurice, quickly, go light the fire. They have returned early tonight. Take the cognac and chocolate truffles with you. Hurry. I will try to slow them down."

"Oui, cherie. I will be quick."

* * *

"Bon soir, mes enfants. You are back early tonight. I heard from Henri today. He enjoys his duty station on New Vulcan. He says he would not be liking it so much if you two had not taught the language so well. I hope he was not a difficult student."

"No, Madame, not at all. With the exception of my lovely wife, I would say Henri was my best student ever."

"Merci, Monsieur. You are very kind."

A buzzer on the panel sounded, the one for Spock and Nyota's room. It was a signal from Maurice that the room was ready.

"Well, good night to you both. Sweet dreams."

* * *

Spock really did not need the fire that night. He was still a little hot under the collar when they reached the room. Nyota picked some soothing, slow dance music from the selections available.

"Come here, Commander. I'm not through dancing with you yet."

She embraced him with one hand, while she caressed the hairs on the back of his neck with the other. Soon he was calm and happy, and soon after that, just a little bit frisky.

"Nyota, let us lie by the fire. See, we have chocolate again. I would like some. Would you like some, too? I could feed it to you."

"You just want me to lick your fingers again!"

"Did it not work out to your advantage last time?"

"Yes, Spock, I recall that it did."

* * *

The following morning, Spock and Nyota were ready for the Bouchards when they knocked. Spock had the bottoms and Nyota the top of a set of blue silk pajamas. He let them in.

"Bonjour Madame and Monsieur Bouchard. Please come in."

Spock got back into bed without being told this time.

"Ah, Starfleet's finest. They respond so well to the training! This morning we have assorted pastries, raspberries, cheese, and tea."

"Thank you. I think that I will have some of each."

"Very good, Monsieur. And you, Madame?"

"The same, please."

"I do not understand how you two stay so thin. You must exercise a lot."

"Oh, we do!"

Fortunately, Nyota refrained from describing the exercise they liked the best.

* * *

Berthe, a chamber maid at the hotel, stood at the front desk with Madame Bouchard. They watched the young couple leave for the day.

"I will go and clean their room, in case they return early. I wonder if I will find them again today."

"Find what, Berthe?"

"Everyday when I clean, I find torn panties in the wastebasket."

"Ooh, la la!"

* * *

The University of Paris, or La Sorbonne, had a language school second in the galaxy only to that of Starfleet Academy itself. Even the former Vulcan Institute of Linguistics had not been so well respected. On their last full day in Paris, the newlywed geeks spent several hours touring various classes, language labs, and libraries. Spock was very surprised to see his interactive Vulcan course being used. Several professors recognized him and congratulated him on his work. All in all, it was a very pleasant experience.

* * *

After lunch, however, Spock had to deliver on his promise. He would have to take Nyota shopping on Ile Saint Louis.

* * *

Nyota really was not a shopaholic. She bought gifts well in advance of events such as birthdays and Christmas. She kept a box of small, useful items on board the ship to give as gifts for events she had not anticipated. She also picked up thoughtful items that she knew would please the people that she loved. Sarek and Amanda both had that ability, but it was slow to develop in their son. With Nyota's help, Spock was learning.

Nyota was quite surprised when Spock selected gifts for his cousin Sirin's children for no other reason than that they would be seeing them the next day. Sirin and his Terran wife Rachel had been married for eight years, but had never had a Vulcan bonding ceremony. They would be doing so in a few days time in San Francisco.

"Spock, should we give them a gift for their bonding ceremony?"

"It is not a Vulcan tradition to do so, but they are not exactly a traditional couple, as we are not. I think a gift might be appropriate."

"What should we give them?"

"I do not know. Perhaps we should make use of your intuition. Maybe you will know it when you see it."

* * *

Nyota was shopping for souvenir earrings for Janice and Christine. The boutique was quite small and the salesgirl kept trying to flirt with him, so Spock decided that he would wait outside. He did a bit of window shopping, examining the displays of the various boutiques. That was when he spotted them. They were black and shiny, with silver buckles and stiletto heels.

It was more of a memory than a fantasy. Spock had always detested parties, costume parties in particular. Every year, Dr. Peng, head of the Xenolinguistics Department, threw a huge Halloween bash. He "strongly suggested" that everyone, faculty and cadet alike, attend in costume. As an instructor, Spock could not refuse the invitation.

Spock had been annoyed that he was being be forced to attend, but finally resigned himself to his fate. At a nearby costume shop, he had purchased a black mask, "do-rag", and a fake sword with scabbard. He dressed himself all in black, choosing from items already in his closet. He really did make a dashing "Dread Pirate Spock".

Nyota and Gaila were roommates and second-year cadets. They had recently attended a performance of _The Pirates Of Penzance_ and thought it would be great fun to dress up as pirate wenches. They rented costumes.

Spock had put in his required appearance and was just about to leave when the girls arrived, fashionably late. They made quite an entrance, especially Nyota in those shiny, black boots with silver buckles and stiletto heels. Spock could not take his eyes of them. Though the Vulcan would never admit to such a thing, he was a "leg man" with a bit of a foot fetish. Nyota's alluring costume had so disturbed his logic that images of her in those boots disrupted his meditations for weeks afterward.

Now, he was confronted with such footwear again. There was only one thing to do for it. When Nyota exited the jewelry boutique, he grabbed her hand and hauled her into the boot shop.

* * *

Ah, young lovers! They were always Jean-Marc's favorite customers. They were so predictable, usually a shy young girl came in with a bold young man. They would invariably be looking for something they had either seen in a holovid or fantasized about.

Something was different about this pair. The girl was the bold one. Though the young man had nearly dragged her in, he was now standing in a corner of the shop, blushing. A most unusual, green blush, at that. The young man was wearing a hat, so he could not be certain. It had been almost thirty years since he had had a Vulcan in his shop, but Jean-Marc remembered it like yesterday.

That Vulcan had been older, but looked enough like the young one in his shop now to have been his father. He also had been shy and had come in with a Human girl. They bought red stiletto pumps.

"I need to stop my reverie and help the customers" thought the store owner to himself.

"May I help you, Mademoiselle?"

"Yes, we would like to see the black boots in the window, the ones with the silver buckles."

"Very well, I shall bring them."

Jean-Marc knew his work well. He could estimate the size of a lady's foot simply by looking. He was very seldom wrong. To be on the safe side, he always brought out one size larger and one smaller.

The middle size was just right. The young woman walked around the shop a bit in them, and then modeled the boots by lifting her pant leg and showing the young man, whose cheeks had again gone green.

"Now for the real test!" she said as she walked over to the tall young man and kissed him. The heels of her boots were high enough that he did not need to bend for this. The poor young man turned an even brighter shade of green.

"We will take the boots" was all that he said when he finally found his voice.

* * *

They were still shopping in Ile Saint Louis, when Nyota broke out in an impish grin.

"I have another shopping fantasy that I would like to act out."

"Nyota, do you not think that we have shopped enough?"

"Oh, no, my love. Not yet. I would like for you to go into Madame Elise's Boutique over there and pick out something that you would like to see me wear just for you."

Nyota pointed to a shop two doors down from where they stood. "While you are doing that, I will venture into Rousseau's and find something for you."

"Nyota, you may not be pleased with the results. Also, I think that I will find this somewhat embarrassing."

"You'll do just fine. Imagine that it's one of Jim's team-building exercises."

Spock did not really care for Jim's team-building exercises. In the past, the Captain had required him to imitate his favorite animal and also to role-play Dr. McCoy. He hoped shopping for his wife would be a bit more pleasant.

* * *

The shirt had a black background and a subtle gray stripe that matched the embroidery on his new jeans. It was cut very close to the body with just a hint of stretch to the fabric. It had a banded collar and buttoned down the front. Nyota imagined herself undoing those buttons.

She bought the shirt.

* * *

Madame Elise had seen the look before. They all wore it when they came in, lost puppies searching for something for a wife or girlfriend. She would help the poor young man, as that was what she did best.

"Monsieur looks a bit lost. May I be of assistance?"

"I am uncertain as to what I need. I am looking for a gift for my wife."

"Perhaps you could tell me a bit about Madame."

"She is beautiful, with long dark hair, warm brown eyes, and skin like melted chocolate. She is tall and slender and strong. She gives much of herself and asks for little in return."

"And she has captured your heart. Close your eyes, young Monsieur, and think of her. What colors do you see?"

Spock did as the woman asked. In his mind he pictured Nyota amidst a background of swirling reds, oranges, and yellows. When he opened his eyes, he saw the dress. The top was red with gold embroidery and beads. The skirt was full and swirled with the colors he had seen in his mind. There was a shawl that matched the skirt.

He walked to the dress.

"This is what I saw."

* * *

They met by a bench outside Rousseau's, each with a package, and seeming quite pleased with themselves.

"Spock, we only have one thing left to do. We must find a gift for Sirin and Rachel. Something bond-mates would enjoy together."

"Look, Nyota. La Bonbonniere. Perhaps they would enjoy chocolate as much as we do."

"Spock, that's a great idea!"

* * *

La Bonbonniere sold a deluxe assortment of one kilogram of their finest confections. They even gift-wrapped it in chocolate brown paper with a pink bow.

The advertisement in the shop window said that eating chocolate should be a sensuous experience. Spock looked around for several minutes. He had never seen so much chocolate in his life. The scent alone was beginning to make him a bit giddy and his imagination started to take him to places he usually did not go.

Spock spied a tray of round, raspberry creme-filled, dark chocolate bonbons. Each was topped with a deep pink rosebud. For some reason, they reminded him of Nyota.

"I would like half a dozen of these, please."

_They remind me of your lovely chest, beloved!_

_Really, well two can play at that game!_

Nyota selected a half dozen chocolate-covered pretzel sticks with mint green sprinkles.

Spock paid for their purchases and they left the store.

"Nyota, I have shopped enough and would like to return to our hotel room now."

"So would I."

* * *

Maurice was the one who saw them coming this time.

"Louise, they are back. What is it that we are supposed to do tonight?"

"If they have not made another plan, Monsieur Sarek wishes for us to give them dinner in the room."

"How will we find out?"

"We must ask them."

The young couple entered the hotel, laden with packages.

"Ah, bon soir, mes enfants. What have you planned for tonight?"

Spock and Nyota looked at each other somewhat blankly. They had no plan other than enjoying each other and the chocolate they had just purchased.

"If you have no plans for dinner, an anonymous friend would like to give you room service tonight. Do you have any objections?"

"No, I do not believe so. In fact it would be most pleasant to not have to leave the hotel again tonight."

"Tres bien. Shall we say in two hours time?"

"Could we make it two and a half?"

"Oui. Madame. Two and a half hours."

* * *

They managed to dress themselves in time for dinner, after enjoying some chocolate and a leisurely bubble bath. Since they were dining alone, they decided to wear their new clothes.

Spock actually liked his new shirt, though he seldom wore patterns. The stripe was just subtle enough. It looked good with his new jeans and the IDIC medallion Nyota had given him for Christmas.

Nyota was very pleased with the dress and shawl. It was something she might have chosen for herself, and it wasn't even half bad with her "pirate" boots. The emeralds Spock gave her made a lovely contrast.

* * *

Jean-Pierre the waiter knocked on their door at half past eight. Spock let him inside. He served the couple pumpkin soup, followed by a vegetable quiche and green beans. Next came a salad of mixed greens and tomatoes. Dessert was a cinnamon spice cake topped with chocolate ganache, served with a glass of Sauterne.

The waiter lit the fire and then excused himself and took away the cart after he had served their dessert, leaving the couple to enjoy it in peace.

They went to bed quite early on their last night in Paris. But it was hours before they slept.

* * *

They woke before dawn, showered, and dressed. They packed the last of their things. They would need to leave for the Transport Depot in a few hours.

* * *

Louise and Maurice were sad to see the young couple already packed and dressed when they brought in their breakfast. They served them at the table instead of in bed.

"Mes infants, we will miss you. You have been such a pleasure, so beautiful and so much in love. You must return to us someday. At least send of pictures of the pretty babies you will have."

"We will return, of that I am certain. You have made Spock and I feel very welcome."

"It was our pleasure. We will have a taxi waiting for you. You will be in good time to make your journey to San Francisco."

"Thank you, Madame Bouchard. We will sign for the charges on the way out."

"There will be no charge, Monsieur. An anonymous friend has taken care of the bill."

"Ambassador Sarek I suspect."

"I really could not say, Monsieur."

* * *

Paris had been wonderful, every minute of it living up to its romantic reputation. However, they had left it behind and boarded a transport for San Francisco. Nyota rested her head on Spock's shoulder, warm and content, ready to drift off to sleep.

Spock, I miss it already. I would really like to go back there someday.

As would I beloved, though perhaps we might return in warmer weather.

* * *

Berthe gave the room a thorough cleaning, as was always done after guests checked out. She smiled to herself at the bonbon that had rolled under the bed and the torn panties in the wastebasket.

"Ah, young love!"

The End!

A/N:

Sequel is coming soon, events leading up to the birth of their first child!


End file.
